Heaven's Eye
by Sylindara
Summary: In any other future, a street rat lives and dies as a street rat. But in this one, fate intervenes. Someone has to care about street kids getting intercised, even if it's only another street kid. Written for Team Battle and Character Battle 2014 on basketballpoetsociety Tumblr [His Dark Materials AU]
1. Prologue

The town of Shuutoku is famous for its street rats. A derogatory term for the hundreds of homeless beggars, thieves, and dealers that live off its streets, every year a new proposition to get rid of them is made and every year it fails. No one knows Shuutoku better than its rats.

Takao, despite his young age, is one such rat. Although there is one aspect in which he differs from the others. But the street rats of Shuutoku come into this world with full knowledge of the importance of secrets. No one but Takao himself knows how unnatural he is, how far the bond between him and his daemon can stretch. Manako can fly as far as five times, even ten times the distance a normal daemon can go from their human. This has saved Takao's life more than once.

It's also a great help when he steals. To have Manako stand guard in ways normal daemons can't accomplish. The trade-off for that is that Manako never seems to turn into anything but a bird. Takao doesn't know why, but doesn't care as long as no one notices there's something wrong with them.

Born on the streets of Shuutoku, he fully expected to die on it too. Until that fateful meeting.

The day started out like any other day. Manako high in the sky as an unobtrusive sparrow while down on the ground Takao wends through the crowd looking for pickpocketing targets. Half of his attention on Manako, Takao cups a hand around his neck in pretence of hiding his daemon there as he smoothly lifts purses from their unsuspecting owners.

He's almost at the end of the street when Manako picks up on something in an alley not far from him. Pricked by curiosity, Takao peers cautiously into the alley from the street while Manako swoops down onto an overhanging that juts out into the middle of the alley.

Despite the early afternoon light, the walls of the alley sag in from both sides, leaving the whole place in ominous shadow. At first glance, there doesn't seem to be anything worth catching Manako's attention. But as Takao eyes adjust to the dimness, he realises that there is a shadow half crouched in a doorway at the end of the alley. It's a small shadow, not much bigger than he is, which is what gives Takao the courage to move closer.

"Hello," Takao asks warily, stopping in front of the shadow. As he expected, the shadow is revealed to be the hunched form of a child, around the same age as him perhaps. A rich child, Takao amends in his head, taking in the fancy looking hakama and the very un-Japanese collared shirt. Only the daemon in his arms, in a rather unfortunate-looking frog form, doesn't look out of place here.

There were different ways Takao could have reacted, different paths the future could have gone down. But in this one, Takao crouches down until their eyes are at the same level, waits for Manako to alight on his shoulder as a robin, and says, "I'm Takao, Takao Kazunari! And this is Manako. What's your name?"

"Shintarou. And Amazu."

* * *

**Author Notes**: Regarding names of daemons: Manako just means 'eye' (眼) and Amazu is 'heaven' and 'matter/thing' (天事) taken from Midorima's favourite proverb. Also I like the idea of Midorima's daemon having the name 'heavenly matters'. Illiterate/uneducated people tend to have daemons with simple names, hence why I chose that for Takao.


	2. Chapter 1

Takao isn't one to stay depressed over anything. If you have the time to sulk, you have the time to do something about it. So, with positivity that would have surprised anyone else, the first thing Takao does after his daily meditation with the alethiometer gains him an unexpected nothing is to go to Ootsubo.

Ootsubo is a lot more understanding than Takao expected of someone who had just been told that their only way of find the truth behind the intercision incidents has just become a dead end, his badger demon allowing Manako to perch on her without a single twitch. But then, all three of them are very kind, more than Takao ever expected law enforcement to be towards a random street rat who suddenly comes up to them expecting them to care about the plight of other street rats. Anyone else would have dismissed him; what did it matter that street kids were turning up without their daemons and shuffling around like zombies? These three are the only law enforcement that would care. And isn't that a depressing thought to contemplate.

Kimura and Miyaji are just as understanding when they come back from their shifts and hear the news. Though Miyaji gives a scoff, "Of course you can't read it anymore. It was always too good to be true."

Takao pouts at him; Manako makes a pass fearlessly at Miyaji's terrier daemon, getting a snap for her troubles. "Miyaji-san doesn't believe my alethiometer-reading abilities?"

"Not that." Miyaji rolls his eyes at him. "Just that it was too lucky, that all our questions can be answered just like that. I've been doing investigations for years, it's never this easy."

"Do you know why you can't read it anymore though?" Kimura asks considerately, his husky daemon reaching up to nose gently at Manako as she lands heavily on the back of Takao's chair. "You've been reading it a lot recently, is it too much stress for you?"

Takao and Manako exchange a look. "No," he admits grudgingly. "It's like how I just knew instinctively what it was trying to say before even though I don't know what any of the symbols mean or what some of them even are. Now I look at it and I know instinctively that I don't understand it."

"Completely useless now," Manako whines. "You can't even use it to line nests."

"It's not useless," Ootsubo's daemon rumbles from her place sprawled beside Ootsubo's chair. "It's a good opportunity."

"Exactly," Ootsubo adds. "This is the perfect chance to approach him."

"Oh no," Miyaji moans theatrically, sinking back into the couch cushions. "Not him, I can't deal with that prissy bastard."

Seeing Takao and Manako's confusion, Kimura explains thoughtfully, "They're talking about Midorima Shintarou. Have you heard about the Generation of Miracles? He's one of them. He's also one of the youngest professors to take tenure at the university, and his area of study is the alethiometer. If anyone knows how to read one, it's him."

"Ah." Takao has heard of the Generation of Miracles. Five young men shrouded in myth and the impenetrable upper class. All a street rat like him would know is the creepy fact that all five of them have daemons of the same gender. Anything else is too big for the likes of him. "But would he be willing to help?"

"The only reason why he's even coming up in this conversation is because he's been making a fuss about the intercised street kids," Miyaji tells him bluntly. "He obviously knows something, we'd never approached him with the information and I don't think he even knows about our investigations. I'd rather we never have to deal with him though. I've met him once at one of those hobnobbing parties; never again."

"But we need to," Ootsubo says sternly. "It's better to work together and pool our resources. And faster too."

Ootsubo always move quickly after a decision's been made, Takao is starting to find. Hence why he is here at one of the hobnobbing parties that Miyaji hates so much the very next day. Takao doesn't really need to be here, or so he had tried to argue, but Ootsubo was adamant. You are the one with the alethiometer, you are the one with the case, you should be the one to meet with Midorima.

"It'll be okay," Manako says soothingly, perching against the window of the little alcove they found so that she can keep a lookout. Takao wishes he has her confidence; Kimura is going to lead Midorima here any minute now and he still doesn't know what to say.

It doesn't matter, Takao finds out, because he can't get any words out anyway. None except a single, strangled, "Shin-chan." Because standing in front of him, even though it has been ten years since he last saw him, is someone from Takao's past that he can never forget. Shin-chan was the first and last person he cried for; he'd waited in that little hovel the two of them shared for three days before finally accepting the fact that Shin-chan was never coming back. But here he is, looking nothing like the little runaway Takao had known; even Amazu, lying docilely in Midorima's arms as a raccoon, is nothing like the frog form he used to be so found of being.

"I should have guessed," Midorima says softly. "There are only three alethiometers in existence. The only one I do not know the location of is the one I gave away."

"I should've guessed too," Takao admits, staring at a point next to Midorima's face. "Who else would care about street rats?"

"You would be surprised," Midorima says. "The others, even though they don't understand, they care. I will have you know we are not just investigating because of the intercision angle."

"The others," Takao says slowly. "You mean the Generation of Miracles."

"Yes," Midorima replies frankly. "Join us, Takao. Help us find the culprit." As if on cue, Amazu springs out of his arms, stopping in front of Takao and laying his head winsomely on Takao's foot. Takao can feel himself freeze; in his stead, Manako takes flight, perching on Midorima's shoulder naturally like she is meant to be there.

"Shin-chan…" Nothing else will come out of Takao's mouth.

* * *

**Author Notes**: The daemons were mostly chosen because of stereotypes because I'm boring orz Takao's is a hawk because I couldn't give him anything else, and Miyaji and Kimura gets terriers and huskies because there are Japanese breeds.


	3. Chapter 2

Years ago, when Takao picked up a little runaway boy only to lose him again, he was left with an unbelievably important gift he did not understand. It had felt like a poor replacement, but a fitting one, as the alethiometer gave him answers to questions he never knew he had – the only question it could never answer were the ones raised by the appearance of a wealthy little boy in the slums of Shuutoku. It seemed just as fitting then, that the once-lost little boy reappeared in Takao's life just as he lost his ability to read the alethiometer.

It was also incredibly awkward, because Manako was right back to her old ways of fussing at Amazu and trying to groom him – and what was once acceptable behaviour for kids take on much more embarrassing connotations when they were in their late teens. Takao slanted a glance at Midorima, who was staring down at the reference book on the table in front of him despite the fact that Amazu had started licking at the feathers on Manako's breast.

"Why did you stop?" Midorima looked up for the first time since they started this session. "Was that the end?"

"No." Takao sighed. "Next is sword, then globe, helmet, beehive, cauldron."

A delicate frown settled between Midorima's brows. "That cannot be right."

"It _is_ right," said Takao mournfully. "I just don't know why it's right anymore."

Midorima opened another book. "In that case, maybe…"

Takao sighed again, flopping back against the couch and feeling supremely useless. He never knew how he was able to read the alethiometer in the first place, so he was half expecting to lose the ability someday. But that left him with no leads, no possibilities of ever being able to read it again. And with Takao illiterate, he couldn't even help Midorima look through the reference books and try to patch together meaning out of it. The only thing he was good for was reading off the alethiometer, which apparently also took skill he did not realise existed – skill that he retained despite losing everything else.

Takao looked back over at the daemons now that the needle had stopped. Directly in the path of the sunbeams streaking through the open window, Amazu cuddled into Manako's breast and cooed; Manako cooed right back. Another glance at Midorima revealed that there was the slightest hint of red creeping up his face, and Takao could feel a corresponding heat rising in his own cheeks. He didn't know how to react to Midorima anymore; the easy connection they had had as kids felt like a dream, one Takao wasn't sure he remembered correctly. Why had he reached out so easily to a rich runaway? Why had Midorima accepted? Why were they here, now, their daemons so close it was like they had never parted? In his hands, the needle of the alethiometer jumped furiously, an answer he no longer comprehended.


End file.
